


Welcome Home, Harry

by MagicianOfDabChaos



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Harry being friendly, Harry gets excited at the wrong things, Hogwarts is alive, I don't know if I should put bashing tags, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Possessive Tom Riddle, Sirius Black Lives, Slow Burn, Sweet Harry Potter, Tags May Change, Tom doesn't understand Harry, and shes angery, but also not giving a fuck, but some characters do change there ways, then some don't
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:21:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24160495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicianOfDabChaos/pseuds/MagicianOfDabChaos
Summary: Harry comes to Hogwarts withdrawn into himself. He does not get angry, nor sad, or anxious when people speak behind his back or hurt him. He does not care about telling lies, it would never change anything. He does not care what everyone says to him. He does not care eyes follow him constantly whether it be in the Wizarding World or Muggle World, it does not make a difference. None of them do not prevent him reaching his greatest desire. Hogwarts is very upset, the Sorting Hat is in fear, the professors are thrown in a loop after finding out what is this small boy's desire.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 46
Kudos: 502





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I actually really like how this story is coming out so i decided I'm going to share it.

Every, soon to be, student flees off the big, red train, with chaos ensuing within, trying to find their way around. One was smart enough to unlock and exit the compartment when most of the kids were out. The young boy proceeded to slip in the background of the sea of inexperienced children. A burly giant with a lantern, which dwarfs in his hands, boomed his voice to direct all the young ones to him. They all follow him to a dock with rickety boats to the side of it.  
  
All the young witches and wizards manage to get on the rocky boats without falling overboard. The unstable boats jerked forward as the hairy giant commanded them to in the silent night . The cobblestone castle came into view with all of Hogwarts beauty and glory. It was relaxing on the hill, with jagged rocks leading its way up to the building that is lighting up the dark skies. Most of them chatted with each other in whispers, while one red head kid voice was so loud that you could understand what he was talking about with the others, who were shushing him. Thus, breaking the special atmosphere of wonder.  
  
The giant leads them up the walkway, pounds on the door, and waits by the huge double doors. While waiting, a bleach blond boy and the boy with fire red hair got into an argument, over what, no one is sure. Most think they are fighting just because they could, and not really thinking about anything else. The door slides open to reveal a stern old woman with glasses on. She introduced herself as Professor Mcgonagall and talked about the houses for a bit. She brings them inside and guides them to their destination to be sorted. All of them looked on in wide eyed wonder of the sheer size of the place, even if they were scared.   
  
Except for one, who was not scared not even for a little bit. A boy with obsidian black, messy hair, scuttle behind last from the other nervous children, takes notice of the beauty of the energy that the castle holds. The warmth of the building gives off to every child in the cobblestone walls. As if wrapping arms around all of them, to make them feel safe and secure, like a mother would do. The strict woman, who was leading the first years, told them to straight themselves out before leaving them by themselves.  
  
The children chattered with one another about the sorting, but the smallest boy never joined them. Instead the child was more focused on the building's energies or magic. It seems to have a life of its own by using four wizards and witches magic, which was fascinating to the smallest boy. He was wondering if one would have enough compatible magic with other wizards and witches could make a living being or a soul out of it. He ignored the children and put his tiny, callous hand on the walls and reached out with his magic to meet the buildings, as if to shake hands.  
  
His soft voice spoke up barely above a whisper. “Hullo there. It’s nice to meet you Ms. Hogwarts, I’m Harry Potter.”  
  
His magic got a tentative touch, then wrapped around him gently. “I can see why a lot of people like you. You're very nice and love every child as if they are your own. You give them so much warmth whether they realize it or not. A lot of them see you as home, which I guess that was the point. “  
  
He vividly heard a kid scream, but paid no mind to it and rubbed the wall. “Everything about you is lovely, to how you are physically made to all the other magic that made you manifest to a living being. Unfortunately, my true home is the place where I’m no longer alive. However, I think I can always make some room for you. A home away from home.”  
  
The strict professor returned to escort the kids to the sorting. “I have to go now. I hope you have a good night!”  
  
When he left with the others the castle walls physically shook, the stairs kept switching in rapid repetition, and few of the doors opened and closed with violet force behind it. The paintings on the walls question what is going on with the castle. There are a few, who know their way around, leave their personal painting to discover what is going on. The headmaster stares to the walls in the Great Hall, Hogwarts has never acted this much before. There was no time to figure that out now as the First years are entering to be sorted, and amongst them, The-Boy-Who-Lived unknowingly steps into his horrible destiny.  
  
The short boy examines the hall full of children, the age ranges from eleven to seventeen years old. He could sense most of the people are warm with joy to be alive, except one in the Head Table that is covered in black, he can not see any more details of the figure due to his bad eyesight. He was not sure about the other person in the purple turban, he met when he was getting his supplies. Something was off about the stuttering man, he could not describe what he was sensing. There was stinging ice cold energy, from the back of the man's head, that is sucking the warmth out of the man. It seems connected with him with his scar, same with the shadow man’s arm although it is a very thin connection compared to the former. The sour apple green eyed child stores this information for later to figure out how they are connected.  
  
The spikey hair child was brought out of his thoughts when the rugged, tethered, brown hat started speaking in a raspy voice.  
  
"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.  
  


You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folks use any means

To achieve their ends.  
  


So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"  
  
The entire room clap, even Harry because it is quite meaningful to him. They all quiet down, the stern lady from before unroll a long piece of parchment and read out the names aloud. Each child hesitates with every step they make as they go up there and the hat plops on their head to be sorted.  
  
When his name was called up, everyone kept whispering behind his back as he walked like himself, instead of being a nervous baby. Harry did not have a care in the world what anyone thought of him, he already knew he was going to be different from the others, he always was. Whether it be from his desires, abusive homelife, personality, or simply because he survived the impossible. None of those people will ever stop him from wanting his desire, that is inevitably going to come to all of them, in one way or another. He sat on the sturdy stool, the rough hat was dropped down on his head and everything went dark.

_“Hullo Mr. Sorting Hat, I hope I don’t cause you a lot of trouble today.”_

_“Nonsense, it is the only fun thing I can do around here nowadays. Now lets see what we got here.”_  
  
He can see his mind being sifted from the hat. Some memories popped up, such as him running away from the walrus boy and his gang, then questioning why he is running from him exactly. Another one he recognizes is him talking and protecting animals from being harmed from his cousin. It shifted to him being in his cramp, dirty, room under the stairs being bled out from some harsh hits. He managed to get the locks undone with his ability and crept to the kitchen to wash some of the blood off, grab some paper towels to wrap it around the open wounds. He was never allowed to get any bandages or medicine.

_“Hmm, difficult. VERY difficult. Plenty of courage, I see, but not for the reasons one would typically have. Not a bad mind, either, however, you build your mind because of boredom. There's talent, oh yes. And a thirst to prove yourself, yet not in the way where one would want greatness, you simply enjoy being different. But you have the ability to become greatness if you choose to desire to. Hmm, where to put you?”_

_“I guess any house would be fine. I'll be honest with you, I don’t see myself in any of these houses. Not because I'm insecure of not being placed, I wouldn’t be here if that were the case.”_

_“Oh? Do tell.”_

_“Well, when I first enter the Great Hall, I examine every child. I felt most of the souls in this space filled with warmth, and contentment, some were shaky, but I think some were nervous. All of them are still happy to be here and breathing. I could go into every single detail for each house, however that will be time consuming and not straight to the main big point. Unlike every single one of them... I desire death.”_

The hat gave a tiny jerk, but the child paid no mind and continued. _“I’m bewildered. I can't comprehend why everyone wants to be alive, so much so, that they're willing to mutilate themselves and deal with the pain so they can be alive. Sure there are some great things like the fuzzy feeling Hogwarts gives to everyone, like some sort of peace. However, death can be super peaceful too. No one there to bother you in a void of nothingness. And this is the sole reason why I will never fit in with any house. I will be the only one who asks for death as a wish.”  
  
_ The hat looked through his mind more. It seemed like he was searching for something. The child wondered if he was looking for honesty behind his spoken desire. The hat found confirmation and sagged down lower on the boy’s head.  
  
The boy voiced his concern. _“Why are you sad? It will happen eventually, whether some like it or not. I just embrace death and yearn for the peace of it. It’s not a problem.”_

The hat’s voice full of weary. _“That could always be a problem, even if you don’t see it as a problem. I do have a place just for you. Although this has not been done for a very long time, which means no one knows about it. I would have to speak with all the head of houses and the headmaster about what is going on in your mind. You are going to be put in this house regardless of what any of the faculty says, for I and Hogwarts herself know what is best for you. They however must be informed about it, and work together to handle you. It's about time another one of you come in, the Gryffindor and Slyitherin head of houses rarely work together with anyone especially with each other.”_

_“It’s fine. You can discuss what you have seen in my mind. It won't make a difference for what I want. Oh! Before we go, I would like to ask how does the process of the Hogwarts letters work? Because well… let me show you."_

Harry digs out the memory of him finding a letter for him, he slips it in his cupboard then brings the rest of the mail to his whale of an uncle. At night, once he got done with everything, he made sure everyone was asleep then turned the swinging bulb on and huddled in himself in the restricted amount of space. He kept whispering to spiders how he never received a letter addressed to him. He caress the symbol that is stamped in red on the tan envelope. He flipped the address over and read.  
  
 _Mr. H. Potter_

_The Cupboard under the Stairs_

_4 Privet Drive_

_Little Whinging_

_Surrey_

The hat sighed and slumped forward. _“Ah, yes, I see why. The address is written by the Quill of Acceptance in the Book of Admittance, the names themselves are self explanatory. Then the Deputy Headmistress would check the address book, write the acceptance letters and owl it to them. Finally, visit the ones in the muggle world since most are muggleborns.”_

_“Didn’t she find it odd that I slept in a cupboard? Also you said she visits the muggle world, how come Hagrid was the one to visit me? From what I gather, he’s not even a professor. He also didn’t really give me that much information other than my parents got murder and Slytherins are bad, which I didn’t listen to that little nonsense. Don’t get me wrong he is a very nice big fellow, but he wouldn’t be an ideal tour guide.”_

_“I don’t know either, child. I will get this sorted out, after all I'm not named the Sorting Hat for no reason.”_

Harry gave a small smile. _“That sounds nice.”_

The young boy ignored the confused looks, turned toward the strict woman and held the hat in front of him as the sorting hat's gruff voice spoke. “Tell all the Head of Houses and the headmaster I need to speak with all of them. While I’m still sorting, why don’t you get Professor Flitwick to watch over the boy, I know he would not mind. It won’t take long to sort the other few out.”

The Deputy Headmistress nodded and went up there and spoke in lower tones with the others. The child heard a tiny squeak and looked over to the teachers table to see a small man, that could compete with the underfed boy’s height, was coming up to him wearing a cheerful expression. He somewhat reminds Harry of the goblins at the bank when he was withdrawing money that he didn’t know he had. _Oh! I need to schedule a meeting with the goblins later about how much is left._

“Hello I’m Professor Flitwick! I’m the one who is going to watch you! Could you come with me outside the Great Hall?”  
  
Harry nods and follows the teacher. “I’m sorry for interrupting your meal time, sir.”  
  
“Oh don’t be! I ate earlier, and my small stomach can only take so much! Besides it must be important for the hat to speak with all of us and not sort you in a house yet. This probably wasn’t what your thoughts of your sorting would be like.”  
  
“I never guess or hope to be in a specific house, so it’s not much of a bother. All I know is I am grantee to be in a house, I wouldn’t be here if that were that case.”  
  
“True. I see you are calm and collected with your mind intact, as I watched you. The other children always get nervous when it comes to being sorted.”  
  
“I guess I never really cared what happens. I’m used to being different from everyone, to the point it doesn’t bother me anymore. Besides, nothing won’t stop me from getting to my goal.”  
  
“ That's good for you for not letting anything stop from reaching your dream! What do you mean your use to being different?”  
  
Harry takes a closer look, or feel in this case, of the short stature teacher's soul. It is very airy warm like his soul is very open to people, but his soul is very dense. There’s more power to the cheery teacher than what meets the eye. Harry decides he already likes him, and _may_ make him a role model in the future. He can never be too sure with aspects of the future, that does not revolve around his death. It is not like he plans ten steps ahead, he just takes it day by day, sometimes planning very small things to give himself something to do.  
  
“At school and home they would always treat me differently, like I had a disease or something of that nature. Even before I found out I was a wizard.”  
  
The goblin looking teacher eyebrows were pinch together with a worried glance. His mouth was open to speak more, the moment was interrupted by the doors beside them swung open. The tall man with a long dark cloak swept passed them and continued onward without a second glance. The other adults followed behind him, Professor Flitwick turn to him with a sad smile and beckoned Harry over.  
  
The teacher in a gentle tone. “We’ll talk some more later, okay?”  
  
The child tilted his head to the side, but nodded anyways. They went to catch up with the other professors and their long legs. Safe to say they both are out of breath for a bit. Harry took notice the short teacher stayed near him throughout the entire time, when he could have gone up with the others. Deep down inside, the tiny, gangly boy enjoys the peace and the small sign of protectiveness from the man. That was enough for him to keep this one in mind for the future, when they both are still around.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “ Others may be afraid of the truth, me on the other hand, am not. It can hold power, life lessons, and put things in perspective."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi y'all, here's a new chapter and I hope you enjoy!  
> Thank y'all for the comments!!! I really adore all of the words that is spoken from each and everyone of you!  
> Also I tried finding a beta reader on all of discord servers I'm in, but I didn't have any luck.  
> That's okay though, there's always a next time!  
> On to the show!  
> btw this chapter is 5k+ long

Harry kept examining his surroundings in the humongous place. The adults chattered amongst themselves, but he ignored them in favor to observe the gorgeous architecture. What fascinated him the most, was the paintings move and have a life of their own. The magic in each painting felt muddy, it is not clear or defined, but it is not faint like the ghost he barely sensed earlier. He kept wondering how big the castle is and how others get to classes on time. _How many secret places passages does Hogwarts have, there must be at least a good hundred!_ _  
_  
They stopped in front of two stone statues of an animal Harry has never seen before. The old man with the pure white beard, spoke a candy name out loud and the gargoyles jumped back from each other, revealing an entrance. The no-nonsense lady in glasses, who was holding the Sorting Hat, told the boy to stay by the entrance and he complied. As the adults went up, the boy tried to see more details on the tall, shadow man’s face, but the man’s shoulder-length, black hair, blocked the view. Harry sat on the cold floor, with his knees touching his chin and his arms wrapped around his legs. He kept thinking about the man in black.  
  
 _I swear I had seen him from somewhere before. Ack! It’s on the tip of my tongue I know it! I just wish I saw him up close to figure out who. Blast my rubbish eyes and these horrid glasses!_

He brought his attention back when the floors and walls rumbled with hot energy. His hand gave a light press to the wall near him. The pads of his fingers graze over the little rubble and grain that is in the castle’s walls as he hums in a soft tune. It took some time, but he managed to bring the castle’s magic down, though her magic was still simmering.

“You’re upset. I wonder why?”

He continued what he was doing while musing about his eight-legged friends in his old room, in silence. In the distance, faint murmurs from the other children eating their dinner. He was glad he did not join the others, the chocolate he got made his stomach turn in the wrong direction. Just the _smell_ of the food, that whiffed through the halls, was already making him queasy.  
  
He jolts as the statues swish to the side, revealing the tiny man from earlier. “Sorry that took long, the Sorting Hat was just explaining to us about where you are being sorted to."  
  
Harry stood up with his legs wobbling because of them going numb. “That’s okay. So, what house am I going to, sir?”  
  
“You’re in Hogwarts House! I didn’t even know this one existed, until now. This school has so many never-ending secrets! How could one so easily hide a house from everyone? Then again from what I was told, it is difficult to find students with three or all traits equal together. But still, this house was never documented, as far as I’m aware of.”  
  
“That sounds interesting. Maybe it’s because the ones who were in this house have to lay low and not gain attention. There’s most likely a good reason this house is not recorded in history books or documented. ”  
  
“That’s a good point. How about I take you back to the Great Hall and we can eat, then I can show you where you will be staying?”  
  
The child’s stomach clamped up by the thought of food. “Actually sir, I would much rather go into the room I’ll be staying in and rest. My stomach has been getting more upset ever since the train ride. ”  
  
“That's okay, come along, I was given directions to your dormitory. I think I have a good idea of where it is.”  
  
Harry followed the professor to where he will be staying for the next seven years. He was not sure if it was their short legs or it was taking a while to get to their destination. He made a note to himself to explore and search for shortcuts in the next few days, so he will not be late to his classes. He focused back to reality when the teacher stopped and looked around in the empty corridor. His eyebrows were furrowed as his tiny, chub, index finger tapped his lip in thought.  
  
“I swore they said it was around here.”  
  
“Why don’t we ask Ms. Hogwarts, sir?”  
  
“How could Hogwarts tell us where it could be?”  
  
“Well, she probably can’t _speak_ to us, however, she could _show_ us.”  
  
He gave a light touch on the walls and spoke in a soft tone.“ Sorry to bother you, but we need your help to guide us to your house dormitory. We are a bit lost at the moment.”  
  
A tentative, warm energy wrapped around him and pulled him along the direction they were supposed to go. He dragged his hand along the walls, to keep up with hers. It was hypnotizing to him how warm and free her energy felt, it put him in a trance by the feeling alone. He recalls his teacher still there with him.  
  
He called him over his shoulder. “Follow me, Professor!”  
  
They continued to travel through the corridor until they stopped in front of a blank wall. He lets his hand rest in the middle of it, to feel it out. A tiny shock hit his fingertips, which made him jerk back and shake his hand. A heavy wooden door melted its way to existence on the wall. The design was nothing fancy to Harry, except for the Hogwarts crest with all the houses united engraved into the door.  
  
“I guess this is my stop. Thank you for taking the time and coming along with me. I’m really grateful.”  
  
“It's no problem at all! I may come by tomorrow morning to get you situated here. ”  
  
Harry nodded, they waved each other farewell and went their separate ways. He rotated back to the tall door and takes a deep breath. His hand inched it's way towards the polished door and laid it flat on the entrance. He gave it a light push and it swung open, he entered the place he will call a second home for the next seven years.   
The eleven-year-old was too exhausted to admire everything, he was not sure if it was because of the long train ride or being around people. He does take little notes of some of the things that catch his eyes as he searches for the room he is going to sleep in. Such as the four unoccupied paintings lined up beside each other, on top of the unused fireplace. There were abandoned rooms that have collected dust on everything in them. He found his room with the golden plaque with his name engraved into it.  
  
He pushed the door to reveal a four-poster bed. The bed’s colors have a hunter green for its main color with gold string markings. He slipped his dress shoes off and shuffled his way to the bed. He flops down on it, as soon as his head hits the pillow, he is already off to his world. Not caring if he did not go clean himself off, he told himself he will do it tomorrow.  
  


* * *

  
The next morning he rolled his way out of bed, blindly grabbed a new pair of uniform, and stumbled his way around to find the showers. Once he is squeaky clean, he prepares for the day, bringing the things he only needs in his school bag for exploring that day. He hears the cheery professor in the Common Room, Harry makes his way to the area to greet him. The professor was gazing in wide-eyed wonder, which made him examine his surroundings.  
  
Near the fireplace, there was some carpet in navy blue and a few sofas in hunter green. There is a section, in the corner of the room, where there are multiple shelves that have mountains of books in it with a sleek dusty table in the middle of it. Various gold trinkets were spread across the room, he does not know what they all were. Every color that was presented in the place was once colorful, now has dim over long periods of being unused.

They move to the table and climb into their seats. Flitwick summons a small creature with big pointy ears and eyes that are the size of tennis balls. He asks for some breakfast to the twig-like creature, it vanishes while making a little pop sound, pop back in with breakfast, and disappears again. Harry was very curious about it, but his mind was caught on Flitwick talking about his arrangements. The professor handed him a curled up parchment, he was careful to unroll it, and glance down at the rough tan paper with his blurry vision.  
  
 **Monday**  
Herbology (Hufflepuff+Ravenclaw) - **10:00 a.m.-11:00 a.m.**  
History of Magic (Hufflepuff+Ravenclaw) - **11:10 a.m.-12:10 p.m.**  
Lunch - **12:20 p.m.-1:50 p.m.**  
Transfiguration (Gryffindor+Slytherin) - **2:00 p.m.-3:00 p.m** .  
Charms (Gryffindor+Slytherin) - **3:10 p.m.- 4:10 p.m.**  
  


 **Tuesday**  
Herbology (Hufflepuff+Ravenclaw) - **10:00 a.m.-11:00 a.m.**  
History of Magic (Hufflepuff+Ravenclaw) - **11:10 a.m.-12:10 p.m.**  
Lunch - **12:20 p.m.-1:50 p.m.**  
Transfiguration (Gryffindor+Slytherin) - **2:00 p.m.-3:00 p.m** .  
Charms (Gryffindor+Slytherin) - **3:10 p.m.- 4:10 p.m.**  
  


 **Wednesday**  
Herbology (Hufflepuff+Ravenclaw) - **10:00 a.m.-11:00 a.m.**  
History of Magic (Hufflepuff+Ravenclaw) - **11:10 a.m.-12:10 p.m.**  
Lunch - **12:20 p.m.-1:50 p.m.**  
Transfiguration (Gryffindor+Slytherin) - **2:00 p.m.-3:00 p.m** .  
Charms (Gryffindor+Slyitherin) - **3:10 p.m.- 4:10 p.m.**  
  


 **Thursday**  
Defense (Hufflepuff+Ravenclaw) - **10:00 a.m.-11:00 a.m.**  
Flying Lessons (Hufflepuff+Ravenclaw) - **11:10 a.m.- 12:10 p.m.**  
Lunch - **12:20 p.m.-1:50 p.m.**  
Transfiguration (Gryffindor+Slytherin) - **2:00 p.m.-3:00 p.m** .  
Charms (Gryffindor+Slytherin) - **3:10 p.m.- 4:10 p.m.**  
  


 **Friday** ** _  
_** Double Potions (Gryffindor+Slytherin) - **10:00 a.m.-12:00 p.m.  
** Lunch - **12:20 p.m.-1:50 p.m.** **  
**History of Magic (Gryffindor+Slytherin) - **2:00 p.m.-3:00 p.m.  
** Astronomy (Hufflepuff+Ravenclaw) - **Midnight**

He slide the paper on the table and continued to eat. They proceed discussing the topic of classes and keeping his head down, which Harry was already doing that way before he came to school. The messy hair child stopped eating halfway through the discussion, and the teacher took notice of the amount left over the plate. Half of the plate was still full while the teacher’s plate was empty.

“Is there something wrong with the food?”

“No, sir. The food is really good, it's just my stomach won’t let me eat more. Oh, I have some questions about some items on the list. The one Hagrid gave me is gone somewhere, so I don’t— Oh wait! I still have the letter from before, when I first got it. Let me go fetch it.”  
  
His scrawny legs jog off to his bag and dig around in it, jostling the other unimportant stuff to the side. He found it and went back to the table tossed the ripped open envelope to the side, not caring where it goes. He questioned some of the items on the list, not knowing what they were used for. Once he was done asking questions, he was putting the letter and the list back into the envelope. Professor Flitwick caught sight of what was written on the envelope, he was not sure if his eyes deceive him.

“May I see that envelope for a moment, Mr. Potter?”  
  
Harry shrugged and gives it to him. Flitwick’s eyes dance across the swirly, written letters on the envelope. Different emotions passed on the half goblin’s face. From sadness to anger to confusion, he was like an open book to read, which was very entertaining to the boy to witness. The shorter man's face settles down on a look of determination and warm care.  
  
“Could you please follow me to get you checked out?”  
  
He nodded and put his schedule in one of his pockets. They traveled to, what the boy assumed was the nurse's office with rows of beds lined up. The professor goes up to a woman that is dressed like a nun and talks to her. He hands the envelope and she frowns when reading the address.  
  
She goes over to the little boy. “Hello, Mr. Potter. I am Madame Pomfrey, I am the school’s healer. I am going to check your health today. Now sit on the bed and relax. I am going to run a diagnostic on you and see what is going on.”  
  
Harry climbs his way up on the bed with his tiny frame. His eyes followed the swishing movements of the healer’s wand, not paying attention to the foreign words. A string of dark blue comes out of the wand and wraps around the boy from head to toe. It disappeared and is replaced with parchment. She glance over the sheet and her lips pursed to the side.  
  
She brought Professor Flitwick to the other side of the room to discuss something. He tried to listen in, but no sound was coming from them. He shrugged and tried to find something to entertain him as the grown-ups talk. His hand shoved into his pocket and grabbed his schedule out of it. A brick hit him on top of his head with a realization.  
  
 _I can do magic here. Would I get in trouble if I do it before classes start? I don’t think I will since I’m at school already. I’m pretty sure I only get in trouble if I do it outside of school. I don’t remember how I got to use my magic like before. Hmm… let's try lifting it._ _  
__  
_He crisscrossed his legs on the bed and settled the paper down in front of him. He stared while his eyebrows were scrunched together in thought. He focused as hard as he can, to try and lift it with his will, nothing happen. He does different hand gestures and waves them around to signify up or lift, it did not even move a little. He gets startled when a loud bang from the doors open with too much force behind it.  
  
The shadow man from before glides across to where the other adults are standing. Harry head perks up, to see if he can get a clearer visual of him, no avail, however. He turns back to the parchment laying in front of him innocently. He put an elbow on his knee with his hand cupping his cheek as he huffed. With his free hand, he stick his index finger out and moved it around in an infinity symbol.  
  
 _I wonder if I could smash my head in and my vision would clear. I could give it a shot. Though it could be possible to make my vision worse, I don’t know how that could be. My vision is already so below average. I can’t even see a bloody thing with these rubbish glasses._

_I just want to see clearly for once in my life. Is that so hard to ask? But no, I have to be blind as a bat, actually, I think bats have better eyesight than me! Now that I think about this, how am I going to see the notes the teacher writes down? I most likely have to look up the notes in books in my free time._

A squeak pulled Harry out of his musings and turned towards the source of the noise. He can tell all of them were staring by their heads twisting to him. It made him scratch his head, what they were looking at. He searched around him until he noticed the paper was floating and took a different shape of a four-legged animal.  
  
The dull sour apple eyed child blinked. “Oh. It finally got up.”

They talked a bit more before Professor Flitwick departed out of the room and the healer went into another room. The tall, slender man makes his way over to the boy with his dark robes swaying to his feet. As he stalked his way over, his face becomes more detailed and clearer, or as clear as it will get. There are some wrinkles around his face, but not as much as the other adults in the school he had seen. 

Harry gasped and points. “I remember you!”

The tall man arches an eyebrow. “Oh? I don’t recall you ever seeing me.”

“I do. I’m not exactly sure if this was a dream or not, but it always pops up. I’m not sure all the details, everything was vague and a bit blurry. There was a really pretty woman there, she had red hair and green eyes-”

The man’s breath got stuck in his throat as the boy continued. “She was screaming at someone. Another voice came in; it was whispery and a bit cracked, almost sounds like an old snake hissing. Next thing I knew, a green light hit her, then a stick was pointing at me and the green light swallowed me whole. It always hurts so much that I usually end up waking up.”

Harry brought his eyes away from the man and stared straightforward.“Sometimes…”

He looks around the room with the rows of plain beds. Not staring at anything in peculiar. Bold green eyes were misty, not in a dreamy way, nor does it look haunted. It was vacant of that childish spark most young ones have.   
  
“When I’m able to push the stinging pain to the side I’m able to see other things. When the blinding light died down, everything was quiet. By the sound of the creaking floorboards, someone was coming to the room , a tall figure in black steps in. This person came closer to the woman that was near me, dropped down on the floor, and held the woman close. His back was toward me so I couldn't see what was going on.”

“I reached through these white bars to touch the man, but I couldn’t get him. He stood up, turned to me, and stared down at me with sad, black eyes. He brought his shaky hands out through his shadow cloaks and lowered them like he was going to pick me up. He was so close to me, all of a sudden, he yanked his hands back as someone was yelling. He disappeared somewhere in the room as a giant figure loomed over me. It stops from there, it never continues farther.”

“For the longest time, I thought it was Death, picking up the woman’s soul and was going to get me. It's not the case anymore since I got a good look at you. So, to answer your question, it's your eyes. They're very pretty, as well as sad looking. ”

“How can you be so certain it was me? It could have been a person impersonating me.”

“You may be able to change your facial features and body types, but you can never change people's eyes. When I see people’s eyes, it’s like it sends a signal to my brain that they have a story. Hints why most people don't like looking into other’s eyes or muggles anyways. However, some take advantage of that and make people look into their eyes.”

“What can you gather from looking into mine?”

“Pain, loss, and bitterness. I used to feel those things some time ago. None of it matters now that I have something to look forward to.”

“Which is what?”  
  
He tilted his head to the side, his bangs follow the direction and reveal the infamous lightning bolt scar, it looks as new as the day he received it a decade ago. His eyes gain some spark, but the bleach skin man had a sinking feeling he was not going to like what was going to come out of the boy’s mouth. 

Harry gave a genuine wide smile. “Death, of course.”

The teacher's voice choked. “Why would you want to be looking forward to that? After all your parents gave their lives for you!”

“And they're not hurting anymore, are they?”

The man opened his mouth to reply, then shut it tight with his lips purse in thought. He had to stare at the boy intently to get any read off his body language. He came up with nothing how to describe it, it seemed casual, yet fragile. He tried to find any comebacks in his head, he was unfortunate to come up with none.

He whispered. “I suppose not... “

It was silence passed through the room, until the teacher whispered. “Do you not miss them?”

“They get to rest blissfully with nothing else to hurt them. No one can bother them anymore and I’m perfectly happy that they're at peace. Besides, I never really knew them, I’m not even sure what they look like. A month ago, I found out they got murdered and didn't die from a car accident while driving drunk.”  
  
The man snarled. “Who told you this?"  
  
“My Aunt Petunia. Now I know she wasn’t telling the truth. Before I suspected she was lying about something, but wasn’t sure though.”  
  
It went quiet between the two of them. The school’s healer rummaging through some things in her office in the distance. The dower teacher lets his eyes examine the boy, as the child has a blank far away expression, as if he is watching something else playing in his head.   
  
“Mr. Sorting Hat didn’t tell you at all, didn’t he?”  
  
“Tell us what?”  
  
“Where I sleep and what's going on in my head.”  
  
“He did not say what was going on in your personal life. As for the latter, he did not speak much, and the things he did spoke, I choose to rather not to believe."  
  
“Ah, I see you're going to be vague and rather hear it from the source itself.”  
  
He arched a black eyebrow. “How can I know that the original source is not lying to me? How do I know you are not doing this for attention?"  
  
Harry turned to the pale man and kept eye contact. “If I wanted attention from people, then I would have been more talkative to people and I would hoop and hollered to make a big deal about it. But as you can see I don’t talk to a lot of people, or when I do, I tend to stay friendly and state _my_ truths.”  
  
“You know most would be afraid of speaking these _truths_.”  
  
“Others may be afraid of the truth, me on the other hand, am not. It can hold power, life lessons, and put things in perspective. All you have to do is ask the right questions and I will give your answer. I don’t care enough to lie, it takes a lot of energy and overall unnecessary for _me_ to do so. Nor do I care about what people think of me, they’re _my_ desires, not other peoples."  
  
It went quiet, but not for long because he was getting quite bord from sitting there. “Anyways, what class do you teach? As you may know, I’m not very familiar with everything like the others. I spent time glancing over the basic material for school and spent more time reading about the wizarding world, so I don’t accidentally cause trouble by my ignorance.”  
  
The teacher straightens up. “I am Professor Snape. I am this school’s Potions Master. I will not go easy on anyone when I ask questions on what you have read so far.”  
  
Harry’s eyes lit up. “Potions seems a very fascinating subject. It sounds like cooking when I read through the first couple of chapters. I really love cooking! I always get excited when my relatives let me cook, which is half of the time. It lets me get to experiment and watch how everything changes right before my eyes to something wonderful!”  
  
His onyx black eyes soften slightly then it cleared off. “It is something like cooking, but with more reactive and dangerous ingredients. You can not throw any ingredient together, and make something new. That is highly dangerous.”  
  
“I can see how that can be dangerous. I'm lucky I snuck an ingredient book, along with the other books, with the list of all its effects and what not to mix them with.  
  
The child's cheeks and the tip of his ears burn. “I’m still really confused about it quite a bit. How it says you can’t add one of them, but if you add another it can cancel it out, but then that one might react with the others. It kinda gives a bit of a headache to think about, but that doesn’t mean it’s less interesting. I just need a better grasp of understanding.”  
  
“It is going to take time to understand it all, thus why you are attending Hogwarts.”  
  
“That’s fine. I’m in no rush to complete anything before I go. If I don’t get to complete something, then oh well,” he shrugs, “I won’t have to deal with it anymore. It’s a win-win situation for me.”  
  
The teacher bit his tongue from commenting on that, instead asked.“You said they let you cook half of the time. Do they ever let you eat with them? From what I read you are underfed, not to the extreme, but it still made its mark on you.”  
  
“Sometimes when they're feeling generous they let me eat with them in the mornings with a small portion of food compared to their mountain-sized plates. Sometimes my aunt would give me cold soup, or an apple that’s kinda gone old. Most times I have to sneak food in.”  
  
“Do they ever starve you?”  
  
“What do you mean by starve? Do you mean they don’t feed me or holding back food?”  
  
“Withholding food.”  
  
“Then yes, at times, but not all the time like I stated earlier.”  
  
“How long do they withhold food from you?”  
  
“Hmm, usually they locked me in my cupboard with no food around two or three days. Maybe a little bit more, it's hard to tell the time in there and I don’t have a clock. The longest I have been in the cupboard was for four weeks. I know that because the boa constrictor incident happened on my cousin’s birthday, then I checked the calendar to see the month changed."  
  
“What was the incident about?”  
  
“I'll tell you about that another time since it's a lengthy story. Besides, you probably have more questions about my health and relatives.”  
  
The school's mediwitch comes in with a tray of potions in her hands and a tray filled with food floating behind her. She settled the potion tray on the side table, while the other tray goes to the Potion Master. She directs him drinking the potions provided and putting the salve on his legs and wrist then he could be on his way. He thanked her and proceeded to guzzle the vile potions down then coughing into his arm. The Potion Master watched him in the corner of his eye. He rolled his pant legs up and put the chill medicine on them.  
  
“What about the bruises? That's too many bruises to be considered to be falling.”  
  
His eyebrows were knitted together, then shot up.“Oh no, you misunderstood. My cousin and his gang cause those, for the most part anyway. Sometimes Uncle Vernon handles me roughly and leaves hand marks, but he never directly hurt me. It’s not a big deal.”  
  
“Do you understand what they are doing to you is abusive?”  
  
He uncurls his trouser legs down and rubs some more on his wrist. “Well, I know they're being neglectful, but abusive? I mean there are times Aunt Petunia swings a skillet at my head. I don’t know if _that_ would be considered abuse.”  
  
“Abuse comes in different forms, neglect is one. Your Uncle leaving marks and your Aunt trying to smack with a pan would be considered physical abuse. Now there is nothing wrong with a smack from the behind, however, one must not overdo it by leaving marks.”  
  
He nodded and jumps down. “I think I’m done now. I best be on my way, I have to learn the routes to my classes when they do start in a couple of days. I hope all of you have a great day.”  
  
“Wait a moment, Mr. Potter.”  
  
The scrawny boy turned to the man that looks like a bat. “Sir?  
  
The boy could see the man is conflicted in his eyes.“You must come by my office before lunch on the first day of classes to retrieve a nutrition potion.”  
  
Harry nodded and exited the infirmary making small plans in his head as he went back to his dormitory to grab his things for the day. He traveled around the school with a his backpack and generic map, that he was provided with, and followed the order of his classes. He took a break and crawled his way up on the stone benches, and gaze around at nothing in particular. A caught something with fur in the corner of his eye and glanced over to see a tabby cat, making it’s way over.  
  
“Why hullo' there gorgeous.”  
  
The cat jumps on his lap and stares at him. He brings his hand behind the kitty’s ears and gives gentle scratches. He hummed a soft tune as everyone does not pay attention to them being in their bubble. A breeze twirls around them at a slow pace.  
  
“You know the way your soul feels, reminds me of that woman at the sorting ceremony. What was her name again? Professor Mc-Mcgonagall I think? My memory can be rubbish at times. You could be her familiar, from what I read they share a bond of some sort, but I’m not sure.”  
  
His vague lightning green eyes caught something then he shook his head and pointed to a group of boys with green hoods. “You see that group of older boys in the Slytherin uniforms? They have been trying to find me to greet them. They're having trouble finding me, which is funny because they were right by me quite a few times. Not that I’m complaining, I will rather be invisible than be bothered by anyone that thinks they get to use me for no good reason.”  
  
He rolls his eyes. “Honestly, if people actually believe a _baby,_ who could barely talk, defeated a _Dark Lord,_ then they must get their minds checked. You know what I think happened.”  
  
He lowered his head and whispered. “I think he made a mistake.”  
  
The cat crooks her head up to him. “When I read through the part about him coming after my family, I thought this action seemed too... reckless for him. One may argue that in his later years he was reckless, I agree to a certain extinct. However, he was still organizing dates, groups, and all that other stuff to do raids or taking over the Ministry. He had more important things to do than go after a _baby_.”  
  
“Another thing, he came _in person_ for a _single_ family to destroy. He has never gone out of his way for someone else's family to kill off, he usually sends his minions to do it. Base on his actions that has occurred, I can see he loves attention from mass crowds, but he’s not dumb enough to go alone. This brings me to my next point, from what I understood, he has some sort of bodyguard with him all times, yet when this event happened he all of a sudden ditched them and rushed in.”  
  
“What would change his behavior so drastically, to kill a family in a very rushed manner? I was thinking anger, though when I read about him more, it doesn’t seem the case. Could it be... fear? That's the only thing I could think of that seems more logical with his actions. Even if that's the case, why go after a baby? You just don’t go after a _baby_ for no reason.”  
  
He looked off into the distance. “Something is missing, but I’ll figure that out later. I want to savor this mystery for a little while. I do love a good mystery to keep myself busy until my time comes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh I feel the need to add that I made this scheduled up, because in canon their schedule is just over the place.  
> Like seriously why was they always having their classes first thing in the morning in sporadic days.  
> The only thing that was a consistent was potions on Fridays in the first book.  
> I feel the need to share that Harry shares classes with all the houses.  
> Also that was one hell of a first meeting with Snape.  
> First thing Harry tells him and it was the death of his mother- BRUH.  
> Harry doesn't know that though, but Snape does.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry was aware he dig his nose into too many dangerous things, but he does not care. He has to keep himself entertain some how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi yall I'm back! I manage to find beta reader ChibiPenguin!  
> I know this is a bit of a slow start to a story but I'm trying to my best to not shove everything all at once lol.  
> A few of you may think this chapter is unimportant, but it is important in more ways than just one.  
> So take that for what you will ksjdfa

The first week of classes for Harry was… interesting. He deemed Herbology as a subject he was not interested in, but he liked the teacher in the class. Professor Sprout had a bubbly personality and always was very open to helping students out. History was disappointing to the child. He was fascinated with ghosts in general, so he thought having a ghost as a teacher would have been exciting. However, Mr. Binns was so utterly _boring_ , that he fell asleep for a couple of minutes by accident.  
  
Transfiguration is where everything started to become interesting. He was the first one in class and chose to sit in the back, despite the fact he could not see very well. _Better this than people trying to watch me._ When he had settled down, he noticed the cat from before was sitting stiffly on the teacher's desk.  
  
He waved and gave a soft smile. “Hullo’ kitty. I see you're watching the class while she's doing other stuff.”  
  
He went back to his transfiguration textbook, rereading the chapter they are starting that they'd be going over in class today. As more people came in, he found it difficult to focus because of how loud some of the other children were becoming. He gave up on rereading the textbook and watched everyone around and saw half of the class was split in green and red. This made the boy curious, because as far as he knew, they were not assigned seats. The other houses in his classes never split up so obviously like this one.  
  
By the time class was about to start, most had calmed down, and some were starting to ask where the teacher was. Suddenly, two boys from Gryffindor came charging in, out of breath, with the red-head commenting that the teacher was not here. As he said that, the cat then jumped off the table and transformed into the strict woman with her hair in a bun. She scolded them about being late as they sat down into two open seats at the front of the classroom, embarrassed. Throughout the class, the green-eyed boy was enamored with the professor; he was intrigued with the subject and the way she teaches it. When it was time to leave, he packed up at a slow pace, so everyone else could leave without bumping into him.  
  
“Mr. Potter, may I speak with you for a moment?”  
  
He nodded then shuffled his way to her and asked in a quiet voice. “Did I do something wrong, ma’am?”  
  
Her eyes soften. “No, Mr. Potter. I am the one in the wrong, I believe I owe you an apology. I was not paying attention to what I was writing to the letter’s address. If I had known I would’ve…” she trailed off.  
  
“It’s okay. I was just curious as to what kind of person you are judging by your action,” he shrugged, “Besides, my cupboard was big, or big to me anyway.”  
  
Mcgonagall gives Harry a sad and slightly guilty look at his previous statement. “Regardless of how big it was, it still was not okay for them to put you in there. It also was not okay for me to miss such a blatant sign that something was wrong.”  
  
Harry shrugged again. “I think it’s fine. Like you said you just weren't paying attention. I can imagine how much stuff you gotta do, and then you got a bunch of addresses and letters to write on top of that. It must be tiresome.”  
  
He gave the professor a small smile. “We all make mistakes, no matter who you are. It only matters when correcting it and meaning well behind it.”  
  
She returned with a smile of her own. “You best be on your way now. You don’t want to be late for your next class do you?”  
  
He nodded then waved his hand before walking off to his next class and when he strolled in he found the Gryffindors and Slytherins were separated again. In charms class, all they did was read from the book and practice spell incantation, which makes sense to Harry because the words are tricky to pronounce. Professor Flitwick made him smile at how open and cheery he was, this also made him a really great teacher to come to if needed. Though he did get irked how this one girl with bushy hair kept constantly raising her hand and never gave others the chance to answer or ask questions. However, he would not let himself be too annoyed with her, because he can see she has a passion for learning, even if she was trying to show off and prevent others from learning.  
  
The most intriguing day of them all was when he had to go to Defense Against The Dark Arts class. During class, the professor was stuttering so much that Harry thought he was talking gibberish. When the teacher turned to write on the board, the boy’s head stung with excruciating pain, and as the class continued, it became worse and worse. He cradled his head in his hand, and when he pulled his hand back to pick up his book, little drops of red were splattered all over his hand. He tried to push through it and copy the notes, but it became too noticeable, since the red liquid was sliding down from his forehead and dripped off to the parchment. He jotted down a quick, messy note, and snuck out of the classroom without notice.  
  
Once the pain had receded, he slowed down to a stop by an open window and looked outside to see children who had brooms beside them. He contemplated if he should make his way to the nearest restroom and cleaned himself off or if he should go to the hospital wing _again_ . As he stared out, Harry noticed that a kid was being jerked around on a broom, in the air. The kid was freaking out, and soon ended up falling from his broom. A loud _crack_ echoed, and could even be heard from where he was currently standing. The adult woman jogged her way over, helped the broken boy, and warned all of them to not move a single inch as she left with the round kid who fell off the broom.  
  
The platinum blonde child with slicked-back hair grabbed something clear and round off the ground. Ron, the one who was late to classes, yelled to hand the thing back and, saying that it was not his. Harry was pretty sure it belonged to the one who just injured himself; he saw him holding it in his hand a few times during class. He snapped his attention back on them when they were on their brooms in the air and flying all over the place, with the kid in green still holding the clear object.  
  
Harry decided then that enough was enough. _It’s not right of them to just toss that around, when that clearly doesn’t belong to them. Do they not care that he would be so hurt if that broke? What am I saying, of course not it doesn’t really affect them._  
  
He raised his open hand in front of him and focused with all his might, letting his magic flare to life in his skin and bones. It took a minute to focus on the object in the blonde’s hand since they were moving around, waiting for a chance to grab the clear ball from the snobby rich kid. When the kid in green threw it, he got the perfect opportunity to do just that , and let his magic snatch it up and yank the object back to him.  
  
Once he was done examining the strange object for scratches, he made his way to the Infirmary, distantly hearing a lady yelling in the background. He searched around for the healer, and he found her tending to the round boy he saw a while ago. She turned around to Harry, and she jumped a bit. She was every bit like a mother hen worrying over their baby chicks.  
  
“Dear Merlin, what happened?” the healer asked, concern showing on her face.  
  
“I was just in Defense class, when suddenly pain erupted from my head. It was a lot of stinging going on, though I ignored it. It wasn’t until I found some blood coming off my scar, that something was wrong. I didn’t want to cause a distraction to the students and teacher so I left a note without notifying anyone.”  
  
“Has this happened before?”  
  
He shook his head. “No. My scar has never been opened up all on its own before.”  
  
Her brows furrowed. “That's odd. Let me see what I can do. Meantime go take a seat on one of the beds.”  
  
Harry glanced at the beds lining the wall and took one that was near the boy who kept fiddling with his hands. “Hullo'.”  
  
The other boy replied. “H-Hi.”  
  
Harry hummed a little tune to himself as he dug in his pocket until he found what he was looking for and outstretched hand towards the boy. “I believe this is yours. These boys were playing around with this and I thought to return it to you.”  
  
The other gasped and grabbed the object out of his hand. “T-Thank you! I was panicking over where it went.”   
  
His vague sour apple green eyes on the person next to him. “It’s okay. I figured it was important to you. I saw you have it in your hands constantly in the classes I was in with you. Oh, I didn’t catch your name.”  
  
The kid stuck his shaky, chubby hand out. “M-My name is Neville Longbottom.”  
  
The twig-like boy gave a small smile and shook the other’s hand. “Harry Potter.”  
  
“W-Woah really?”  
  
“Yep. If you want proof I have the scar. However, that may need to wait because as you can see, it’s bleeding,” he vaguely gestures around his forehead where there is dried up blood on his face.  
  
“T-That’s okay. I don’t c-care about that. I don’t w-want you to feel uncomfortable.” Neville stammered, shifting his gaze away from Harry.  
  
Light heat bloomed in the tiny boy's chest. “Thank you for caring how I feel, but it’s unnecessary. You don’t have to be so nervous around me, I quite like you already,” Harry said, with a half smile on his face directed at Neville.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Safe to say he did not return to classes for a while. When he was let out, Madame Pomfrey was adamant for him to go to his room and rest. She could not find the cause or remedy to the pain in his head other than telling him to rest. He escaped her clutches and headed back to Professor Quirrell’s classroom to grab his bag, which he left in the corner he stayed in. Though he did have a detour since the stairs decided to change his directions to the third corridor, and it didn't change. He went to go find a teacher and was about to knock on a door, but then he heard growling on the other side. He left and took the super long way to his destination, he was out of breathe and his body was sore by the time he got there.  
  
He knocked a few times and entered the empty classroom when no one answered. In a swift movement, he picked up his bag and turned to head out.  
  
“H-H-Hello? W-Who m-might you b-be?”  
  
Harry jumped, not hearing the man coming so close to him. “I was the student who left the note earlier. I hope you don’t mind that I entered your classroom without your permission. I assumed you went off to have your break somewhere else.”  
  
“I-It i-is fine. I-I-"  
  
The little boy got closer to the man when he saw his professor’s expression morphed in distress. His bold green eyes took a better look at his apparent condition. Harry raised his head, and in the process some of his bangs moved to the side, revealing his infamous lightning bolt scar. The professor’s face is scrunched up in pure pain, sweat beating down his forehead, and he seems paler than he was earlier. The stinging cold energy was attacking the stuttering man, as if it was tearing at him bit by bit. There were also some warm vibrations coming from his scar, but it was not like the pain from earlier.  
  
“Professor are you okay? You don’t seem so well. Do you want me to go get a healer?” his eyebrows were pinched up.  
  
Quirrell snapped, his eyes open and staring into his sour apple eyes, and took a sharp intake as he recognized who was in front of him. “N-no I’m fine now. I’m… surprised that I didn’t recognize you, after all, you are pretty famous and I have met you up close before.” He mused.  
  
“It’s not surprising to me. If you look at me from a distance I look very basic, except for maybe my eyes and scar.” Harry replied. “I tend to keep to myself to do more important things. It simply wouldn’t do if someone was constantly watching me, waiting for me to do some tricks like a dog.”  
  
The professor’s eyes flickered to red. “Oh? What sort of things could be so important?” He asked, an amusing expression that was very un-Quirrel like forming on his face.  
  
“It seems I have to inform myself about this world and my family bloodline since no one is going to help me.” Harry answered flatly, “I also may or may not work my way up to make changes to this school.”  
  
The professor paused, not expecting that answer from the boy. “You never knew? The Potter family is famous for their wealth.”  
  
“Nope, I never even knew that. I didn’t even know I was a wizard until Hagrid came with my letter.” Harry stated matter of factly. “I still don’t know a lot, so why should I stop there? I want to know more about what the adults refuse to tell. So I can gain the upper hand and scare them once a while.” he finished, the implications of his words unclear to the man in front of him.

Quirrel stared at the boy in front of him, speechless.  
  
Harry glanced at the window outside, noting how much time had passed with the position of the sun. “Welp, I have to go now. Madame Pomfrey gave me orders to lay down, and I have a feeling she will relentlessly hunt me down. It was nice talking to you, and I hope you get some rest and let yourself heal or you might pass out one of these days.”  
  
He strolled out the doors of the classroom, giving a quick wave to Professor Quirrel before disappearing around the corner.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Friday came around and that was finally the day he had potions. He headed to the class early in order to get a good seat, and when he got to the potions classroom he settled himself in the back of the class and waited for instructions.

  
The professor burst through the door, being a bit dramatic if you ask Harry. Everyone quieted down as he gave demands for them to follow, and a speech that made Harry and a few others lean forward in their seats. Professor Snape stared directly at Harry with an intensity behind his eyes, and the little boy refused to back down. After all, he had never backed down before, why would he change that now? The professor then snapped his head around and called out Wealsley to answer some questions that in Harry’s opinion, were a bit hard to answer when someone is new to the subject.  
  
The freckled boy’s face was turning redder and redder with every incorrectly answered question, his face eventually turning redder than his hair. Harry could tell he was trying to keep his temper down, but the professor was making it almost impossible to do so. After the most recent snarky reply from the professor about Weasley’s intelligence, the boy finally snapped back; but it seemed that’s what the dower man was waiting for and pounced on the opportunity to take away house points and assign detention quickly. This made the green-eyed boy purse his lips, since he was not aware that the professor was the type of person that liked to do this to his students. _Maybe he does this to everyone,_ Harry thought at first, but no, as the class went on Harry observed that he seemed to favor the Slytherins.  
  
 _Then again he is the Head of Slytherin. it’s natural to show favoritism towards one’s own house, but verbally_ **_attacking_ ** _students from other houses like that? Seems a little uncalled for._ _  
_  
The skinny child gave a quiet sigh as he packed his bags, waiting for the others to go. _I guess I’m going to_ **_have_ ** _to look through the books for notes since it doesn’t look like he’s going to_ **_try_ ** _to teach us._ _I don’t even know anywhere that would be a safe place to even practice the practical part of it though. There is the Common Room, but I’m not sure if that’s a good idea._

“Potter, come here,” Snape instructed as Harry is about ready to walk out the door, startling Harry out of his thoughts.  
  
Harry picked up his bag and shuffled towards the professor, waiting for him to look up from what he’s doing at his desk. When Harry reached the front of the classroom, Professor Snape pulled his wand out and swished it around with a couple muttered incantations, two of which Harry assumed were to shut the door and lock it. The student was not sure what the third one was for, but he decided not to ask. He knows how to pick his battles, and especially how to avoid ones that will not go well for him.  
  
“I heard about the incident with you yesterday from the school’s healer,” Snape began, his face mostly blank with a small hint of concern showing though. 

“Tell me what happened, so I may have an idea to find a remedy for it.”  
  
Harry tensed at the memory, an echo of the pain faintly present. “I think my scar has reopened because of someone’s magic. I think it has something to do with Professor Quirrell, sir. I'm pretty sure he’s not the person he claims he was before.”  
  
The teacher clasps his fingers. “Explain.”  
  
“There’s something latched on him and draining away from his energy. The one latch on keeps overpowering the weaker one, because of his personality changes. It's a subtle change, so no one else can’t tell.”  
  
“How can you be certain of this? Can you see something sucking the life out of his soul?”  
  
“Well I can’t _see_ his soul, but I can _feel_ it. I can feel everyone’s soul and magic, they are connected after all. However, the details of it aren’t important right now. What is important is the thing that is attached to the professor is somehow connected to us.”  
  
He raised an eyebrow. “How is it connected to me and you?”  
  
He pointed to Severus’ left forearm. “That has the same energies as the thing that is attached to him. I have some of it as well, but I don’t remember it touching you or me. Your connection is not as strong as mine, but I don’t want it to harm you.”  
  
The professor is startled by the boy pointing to that specific arm. As the little boy explains more, heavy weights of dread and old fear crawled up on his body. Harry paid attention to his eyes and energy that surrounds him, he can tell Professor Snape is conflicted with himself at the moment. As if he wants to be in denial.  
  
“As I said before, Professor, I don’t care much about lying. Besides, how else would I know about whatever's on your arm, when I don’t know you or anything.”  
  
The hooked nose man snarled. “I never said you were lying.”  
  
Harry kept a calm straight face and continued on. “No, but I can tell you are conflicted even when you don’t express it on your face.”  
  
There was hesitance before the teacher spoke. “Continue.”  
  
“When I entered his classroom for the first time my head stung really bad,” he absent mindedly rubbed his scar, “At first, I thought it was a headache, so I brushed it off. I couldn’t sit there any longer due to the pain and left, then I realized it immediately got better after I left. The second time I had to go back and get my stuff, and it felt… warm? I think that's the only way I can describe it. It didn’t sting like the first few times, but it was weird to feel coming from my head.”  
  
“Times? You met him before?”  
  
Harry scratched the side of his face. “Well, yeah. Me and Hagrid were getting my supplies and we bump into Quirrell, I couldn’t really see everything, Hagrid seemed quite overprotective of me for some reason. He didn’t allow anyone to get close to me until in a clearer area.”  
  
“And you didn’t tell anyone?”  
  
“Well, I did go to the healer about the scar, but I didn’t connect that to him. Until now I remember the leftover- umm, what's that word. Re- Res- Residue! On your arm. Which made me concerned for you, because it is being ruthless to the Professor. I rather you not go through what he’s going through.”  
  
He arched an eyebrow though his shoulders were tensed up. “Potter, how could you not tell he was doing it when this has never occurred before?”  
  
Harry shrugged. “I’m eleven and everything is new to me. I thought it was because of his horrible stuttering. I can’t understand a thing he says, then combine with my already rubbish eyesight and it’s just a nightmare.”  
  
A corner of the professor’s mouth twitched, then shook his head and became serious again. “Alright you have to listen to me, this is important. Whatever you do, do _not_ go near him. Stay as far away as possible. The one that's attached to it, is a very dangerous being, if I have assumed this correctly.”  
  
“Forgive me sir, but it would be very difficult for me to stay away. I have defense and dinner to go to. What am I supposed to do when my scar acts up again? I can’t keep going to Madame Pomfrey, she doesn’t even know what to do when it happened the first time.”  
  
Professor Snape put his thumb and index finger between his eyes and pinched. “Why must you be this way?”  
  
Harry cocked his head to the side. “What? Would you rather me lie to you, than the truth?”  
  
“I would have said no before, but in this instance, I would very much appreciate it. It would at least give me some false sense of security.”  
  
“Well it should give you more motivation to find a way to get rid of him sooner, so no one gets hurt. That’s a smart move,” he tapped the side of his temple.  
  
Professor Snape sniffed. “Clearly. You may go.”  
  
He twisted around and went to the entrance of the classroom. His hand laid on the curvy handle of the door and paused. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes became distant. He gave a puff of air, his shoulders straightened up to steel. his eyes are set with determination.  
  
Harry turned around.“ Sir, I would like to tell you that I don’t sit with the Slytherins during meals _not_ because I don’t like them, but because they are very observant of the people that are around. Then there are the unspoken seating arrangements. They would immediately see me and might question me, and that would make it difficult for me to get around.”  
  
“Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw is a fifty-fifty chance they will see me. If one Ravenclaw notices they will most likely stay quiet about it, or spread a rumor and if a Hufflepuff notices they probably ask or just chat then forget me most likely. Most Gryffindors don’t pay attention to who's around them, and they are very loud. People would pay attention to the loud ones, instead of the ones that are quiet to the side of them. Thus, this makes it the best option for me.”  
  
“I would just like to make that clear to you before you get anything in your head twisted. I don’t believe in the prejudiced accusations being thrown around about any house. I look around before determining what type of people I’m around. I’m saying this because I don’t want any misunderstandings between me and you.”  
  
Silence filtered the room, the teacher gave a slow nod. “I understand... I will be the judge of that, Mr. Potter.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Weeks passed and everything became a routine, doing school work, hiding in plain sight, exploring, and sleeping. He occasionally talked to Neville a few times during dinner. Harry has never seen anyone so happy to be around him, it made him so curious that he stays by him. He does not understand why the Gryffindors made Neville an outcast, he could clearly see the blonde fit in this house. To say he was surprised about the boy’s knowledge about Herbology was an understatement. He questioned the boy as to why he has a difficult time in potions when he knows crystal clarity about each herb's effects.  
  
His soft chubby finger fiddled with one another. “W-Well, Professor Snape really scares me, a _lot_. He always looks like he’s going to attack me at any minute. It’s like he had my head on a bounty from day one. I don’t even know what I did to him to make him so angry at me.”  
  
Harry nodded in understanding because he had witnessed it right before his eyes. Though there was one small thing he took notice of that misses everyone’s attention. Every time the onyx eyes found his own eyes, something always flickers in his expression that seems strained before he turns and jumps on the Gryffindors in class. He tried to recall what he had done to make him upset, but he ended up with nothing. _Then again people get mad at me for simply breathing the same air as they do. Even though I don’t want to breathe at all._  
  
He sighed and decided to call it a day and went back to his Common Room. He sat on the couch, digging his nose into the book to see the small letters. All was quiet, little noise passed through the walls from the other side, where children were chattering far away with other people in the halls. The only sounds that were uttered in the stillness of the room were the casual page turn and his breathing. It was quite enjoyable for him, he pretends in his head this is what it was like being dead. No noise, no one coming to bother him about anything, no disappointment, no movement.  
  
He let a smile crept on his face and let his body fully sink into the couch. His eyes flutter shut, and lets his body still with calm breaths. Soon enough he slips from consciousness being oblivious to the world he is in.  
  
Darkness, that was what he met with. A void filled with absolutely nothing. Well, it was _almost_ nothing. None would notice it, but the little boy visited here multiple times, to know. Small whispers that sound so close and yet so far away. He could never identify what it always said, it always sounded like mumbles, but it always sounded so deep and gentle.  
  
A shriek shattered his peaceful scene.  
  
His body jerked awake and swiveled his head around to find the source. He scratched the side of his face with his eyebrows pinched together, he does not see anyone in the room. His head twisted forward then finally found the source hanging above the fireplace. It was a plump woman in a sunshine yellow dress, with two chocolate hair braids placed on her shoulders. She looked familiar to Harry, but he does not recall where he saw her before.  
  
“Oh, I’m sorry, child! I did not mean to wake you! I did not expect to see anyone here.”  
  
He blinked. “Hi miss and it’s okay, I needed to wake back up to finish reading. I was wondering if the people in the portraits here abandon them.”  
  
“Yes- er- I mean-” she twiddles her thumbs, “Not necessarily. We have multiple portraits placed around the castle and other places. We did not expect to see another child in here, it would get very boring if we stayed here all the time.”  
  
He gave a soundless chuckle. “I could imagine that would be very boring. I should introduce myself, my name is Harry Potter. What’s your name, miss?”  
  
A bright smile graced her features. “I am Helga Hufflepuff.”  
  
He covers his mouth and yawned. “Ah, I knew you l seen you from somewhere. I'm sorry my thoughts are still a bit blurry from sleep.”  
  
“It is no trouble at all. In fact, I think you should head to bed now. After all, you do not want to drag around to classes with half awareness, do you?”  
  
“I guess you do have a point. Good night, miss,” he waved his hand to her and left for bed.  
  
The next morning, he shuffled his way to the couch and picked up one of the books to continue reading until breakfast got started. It was starting to get chilly in the Common Room, he does not think he could bear it any longer without any proper clothes. Just like that, a thought crossed his mind to a stuttering stop. He yanked his charms book open and skipped a couple of charm lessons ahead to learn about the fire charm. Heat spread on his cheeks because of his stupidity for not looking at what tools he has right in front of him.  
  
He was just getting into the text when a voice boomed through the silent room. “Hello there, small one!”  
  
He jerked his head to see a big burly man in red accompanied by Helga Hufflepuff. “Hullo', it’s nice to meet you, sir. I assume you’re Godric Gryffindor.”  
  
“Yes, I am! Helga here told me and the rest of us there was a new lad finally sorted in this house. To be quite honest, I did not believe her at first, and I wanted to see myself. It's been so long since we had another child in this place.”  
  
“It was most likely caused by the big wars that have been happening back to back and it caused a decrease in the number of kids being birthed. Then there’s also the fact that there are two more schools in Britain, that probably offers a more steely education, although I think that would be the current headmasters' fault since he’s in charge. Which is sort of sad to see so many empty classrooms in Hogwarts. It’s such a lovely school with her loving presence.”  
  
A serene female voice chimed in. “That is quite an observation from an 11-year-old.”  
  
Another woman popped into the frame by Godric’s. She wore a blue lapis lazuli dress, with a diadem on top of her long voluminous, black hair. Her demeanor screamed authority and elegance with her sharp intelligent eyes. Another man slides in next to her, and Harry can tell he was the older out of the four that was presented. His long, grey beard and the hair on the back of his hair was fried in texture, but it was much more tame than the headmaster’s, although the top of his head was polished bald.  
  
They asked questions to get a feel of his person and in return he asked about the House and if there was any special rules. They were confused and agitated when he told them no one did not explain a lot of things, only a few basic rules. He said it was fine, they were busy people and it would motivate him more to gain more knowledge to one day have more information than they do and take over. They calm down to a simmering heat, with some fond looks and smirks.  
  
As time passes, he explores every place that he could reach, however when it comes to him studying, he tends to stay in the library or the Common Room. When he does stay in the library, he always sees the same bushy hair girl sitting by herself with stacks of books by her. In the beginning, he thought she just wanted some quiet time to study, since most Gryffindors are obnoxious. Then he heard words going around about her, it was not the nicest things in the world.  
  
He could understand how people would get aggravated with her, but to downright bully her is worse. Especially from her own house, they were relentless to her. One day he sat down at the same table with her, so she would not feel as lonely. She was so surprised, that she completely forgot about the book in her hand and it slipped out of it. He toyed with the idea of introducing himself to see what her reaction would be, but he held back.  
  
Nothing was spoken between the two, which he expected. When it was time to leave, he wrote a small note to her with some book recommendations that he assumed she might enjoy. His hand slipped it under one of the stacks of books she brought to the table and headed off to his Common Room. He strolled at a lazy pace in the halls, as one hand dragged along the walls to connect with Hogwarts’ magic.  
  
Harry mused. “Hmm. Maybe I could visit Hagrid later after I get my homework done. It has been a little while since I saw him. I wonder if he is okay, I heard he tends to be lonely. What do you think Ms. Hogwarts?”  
  
His mouth snapped shut as his ears picked up mumbling in the distance. A split-second decision made him adventure forward to the voice to satiate his curiosity. He hides behind a pillar just in time to see Professor Quirrell walking down the empty hallway muttering to himself. He could not identify what all he said only a few parts about releasing a troll and third-floor corridor. Once the teacher passed, he made his way to his room, and thought about what he heard.  
  
 _So he going to release a monster on Hallowe'en? Most likely as a distraction to get something on the third floor. Isn't that also the place we were forbidden to go to? Professor Snape would most likely follow him judging how him and Professor Quirrell keeps popping up together all the time. Though would that really be a good idea for him to follow?_  
  
 _I don't think it is, most of the other teachers seem to not care for Slytherins. They may not be out right rude, but it seems they kinda brush them off. What would happen if the Slytherins were put into that situation an they don't have their Head of House to guide them? Sure they have prefects, but I'm not even sure they even know defense to go against a **troll** if they encounter one. I heard they can be pretty scary and hard for adults to go up against._  
  
  


* * *

He sat through the entire class time figuring out how to address the issue. When it was time to leave, he waited until everyone was out of the room. He tiptoes up to the teacher’s desk, fully aware the professor was in more of a bad mood than usual. Thankfully the professor was writing something down not paying that much attention.  
  
“Sir, I think Quirrell is going to release a troll as a distraction to go get something on Hallowe’en. I heard him mumbling to himself down a hallway. He was very pale and looked like he was on the verge of passing out. I guess whatever is inside him realizes his soul and body are not going to last long because it is acting desperate.”  
  
The dour teacher looked up. “Okay, Potter. Thank you for informing me. I will handle it.”  
  
“There’s more sir. I ask you to not follow him.”  
  
Snape peered at him with hard calculating eyes. “And why is that, Mr. Potter?”  
  
“Because if you do that, then who’s going to watch out for the Slytherin kids? No matter what you say about them or any house, they are still kids. If no one is there to watch them then there’s a possibility of them getting harm, whether it be from the troll or the other students. One of them might be reckless enough to go hunt down the troll and face it.”

Onyx eyes stared with intensity at the child before him. His shoulder puffed up with tension as he eyed him critically. Harry does not back down, not one bit. _I may not like how he acts to the other kids, but they need him. They are not aware of any other defense spells, by the way some talk, the older students got used to having rubbish defense teachers. I may ask for death, but I don’t wish that for others._ _  
_  
The Potion Master waved his stained hands in a dismissive gesture. “You may go now.”  
  
The student shrugged and went to the door. _Well, that went over better than expected. I was so sure he was going to blow up at me as he did with everyone else. If the looks he’s been giving me is anything to go by._ _  
__  
_Snape's voice broke through his thoughts, something in his voice sounded heavy with emotion. “Potter, why are you so insistent about wanting to die?”  
  
Sour apple eyes continue staring forward to the door. “Because there are scarier things than death.”  
  
Harry then closed the door and walked away from the classroom, leaving the professor alone. As he shuffle down the hallway he went back living in his own thoughts.  
  
 _That question was very out of place, but I guess I should just accept that he can be just as odd as me, if not odder. He also didn't really give a yes or no. But maybe he's considering it. I really hope he does, I don't want the other kids to die because of the adults not being there or adults being idiots._  
  
The little boy bit his thumb's nail with his eyebrows pinched together. _Maybe I could do something about him. I don't really have anything better to do. Besides I could get back at Professor Quirrel for causing these horrible headaches. He must be targeting me on purpose, there is no other reasonable explanation for it. Hmph lets him see how it feels to get targeted._  
  
  


* * *

  
  
It was Hallowe'en day for the Wizarding World. The day every witch and wizard not only celebrate the holiday itself, but also the defeat of the Dark Lord a decade ago. Harry himself shook his head and focused back to the feather that he lazily dragged around in the air. He had already done this before, but he practiced more with the spell back in his Common Room, to see how much weight he could lift, until he was forced to use his wand and incantation.  
  
In front of him, Hermonie was telling Ron how to say the correct pronunciation. Harry gave a small chuckle, he could tell the freckle, redhead was so done with this class and her. She means well, but her bossy attitude gets in the way at times. When classes were over, he made his way in the halls, walking behind Ron and a dark-skinned Gryffindor. They were rowdy about the girl, everyone could easily hear them a block away, so it was no surprise she shoved past them, with her head down, and jogged away.  
  
The sour apple green eyed boy jogged after her. _Its not safe to be alone. Not today. Its never safe on Hallowe'en._  
  
Harry caught up to her near the girl's bathroom and grabbed her wrist. She twisted her head to him and paused her movements, tears welling in the corner of her eyes. He gave a small, gentle smile and tugged her along to the direction he was going. She did not want to follow, but her curiosity came over her and followed him. _Taking her outside to get some fresh air would do some good for her, she can take a break from inhaling dust that is in the library. Maybe I can also help calm her before she goes and do something rash._  
  
Easy silence filled between them as orange leaves crunch under their feet. Chilly winds made their hair dance around them in slow motions. Once they were far enough from the castle, he took a seat on a log and patted on it for her to join him. She took a few hesitant steps and sat five inches away from him.  
  
“Why did you bring me here?”  
  
“I figured you would like some company and go somewhere to calm down. No one shouldn’t be alone on Hallowe’en, bad things will happen and no one will be there to help out.”  
  
She huffed. “I don’t believe that. I think that’s just superstition. Do you honestly believe in that nonsense?”  
  
He tilted his head to the side and made eye contact. “I do.”  
  
The wind wrapped around his bangs and swayed it apart to reveal the curse scar. Her eyes widened in recognition then she bit her lip and nodded. The only sounds to be heard were the rustling of leaves as the wind whipped through them and the occasional birds that chirp at one another. It was peaceful, but he could still feel the downtrodden atmosphere.  
  
He jumped up, startling the girl. “Enough moping around, let's have some fun.”  
  
The tiny boy grabbed both of her hands with his hands and pulled her up. He kept yanking her with the little muscle he has on his bones, while she was protesting until they were in the middle of a pile of fallen orange and yellow crumpled leaves. He spun both of them in circles, kicking up the large pile of leaves around. Giggles spilled out from both of them and by the time they fell into the leaves, warm laughter echoed through the secluded area. When it was getting dark, they made each other presentable by brushing the leaves out of each other’s hair and clothing, then proceeded to head in the warm, orange lit castle.  
  
He brought Hermione along to dinner and sat by Neville, who was surprised to see another person join them. The round boy was nervous at first because of how she always acted, but once Harry brought up the topic about plants, he unwinds his shoulders. They chattered on any topics that popped into their heads after that.  
  
Everything was going fine.  
  
Professor Quirrell burst through the double doors and ran in the middle of the Great Hall like a mad man. “TROLL IN THE DUNGEON! I thought to just let you know.”  
  
His body dropped to the floor like a sack of meat. The students panicked and screamed, the headmaster had to send sparks in the air to gain their attention and direct everyone to their Common Rooms. Harry and the other students immediately left before the headmaster finished, it is not important to him at the moment.  
  
Instead of following the commands, he slipped into the halls and waited in a shadowed corner with a pillar near. Once all was quiet, he began to move in the direction to the third corridor, and watch for the purple turban professor to approach the door, that students are not allowed to go in.  
  
 _If I'm correct he's after something behind that door. I wonder what it is? Eh- it doesn't matter at the moment._  
  
Soon enough, the stuttering professor approaches the door with strides of confidence. It seems his confident steps are silenced by a spell of some sort as he opened the door. Harry followed behind him with ease, then stopped by the door to watch what the teacher was going to do. The man with the purple turban crept underneath, what appeared to be a giant of a three headed dog sleeping on a trap door. The little boy looks around to see if there is anything he could wake the creature with. He spotted collars on each neck and an idea forms. _I may not be able to do anything to the body itself, but It doesn’t apply to other things that attach._  
  
His hand whipped out his wand and he whispered. _“Wingardium Leviosa!”_ _  
__  
_He focused on the collar that is on the middle head and flicks his wand up. It yelps which lead to stirring the other two awake. Harry takes his leave in a haste as he hears growling, and walked back to his Common Room. He had to take the long way around to avoid the paintings, it would not do well for him if they snitch on him. He could not stand being watched _and_ reported, but he was okay with people watching.  
  
Just his luck, he comes across the very troll that was let loose in the castle, by the girl’s bathroom. He did not have any more patients to give and used the same spell from before on the troll’s bludger and slashed it down on the smelly creature’s head. His ears picked up multiple pairs of footsteps in the distance. He ducked in the girl’s bathroom. _  
_  
In swift wand movement and incantation, all the bathroom doors swung shut, except for the one by the corner of the room. He enters it, locks it behind him, and looks at the toilet. The wizarding toilets did not have covers like the muggles do. He crouches on the toilet seat and hopes to Merlin that his feet do not slip in. His breathing is low and shallow, to make sure it was barely heard unless you were right in front of him.  
  
The voices became louder, pieces of conversations could be heard, but he did not care what they were talking about at that moment. He was sure that no one saw him, they were too focused on the troll that was knocked out. His body became like a statue when he heard cloth moving, but no footsteps. His scar was stinging, but it was faint compared to the other times.  
  
The person was inching closer and closer to the doors. Two confident knocks reverberating through the area on the first door. It repeated for the other doors as it became more blasting in the deafening silence. When two pairs of shoes reach his door, a familiar purple turban peeking through between the cracks of the door, there was also shredded robes around the shoes. The little boy's instincts were telling him to disappear and run, but he held his ground and waited in anticipation for the teacher to knock on the door.

“What are you doing, Quirrell?”  
  
It made the feet step back from his door. “N-Nothing. I-I was j-just c-c-checking if there were any s-s-students in h-here. I-It seemed l-like who e-ever knocked t-the t-troll out, a-also l-locked a-all t-the g-girls bathroom doors.”  
  
The baritone voice drawled. “And?”  
  
“I-I c-came up with n-nothing.”  
  
The other snarled. “Come on, I already had enough of your incompetence for the day.”  
  
Harry did not move an inch as the footsteps faded away from the room. It was only when his nerves stopped thrumming and he felt his surroundings that no one was near, he crept his way off the seat. He let his back hit the wall and slump down to the dirty floor. He could not help the surge of relief and disappointment grabbed a hold of him. _That’s okay, it just means I have more time to have fun playing this game of cat and mouse._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did yall think about this chapter? Let me know in the comments about anything!  
> Also let me know if I need extra tags for something. I tried my best to tag without spoiling too much, but I'm not too sure.  
> Anyways I hope you enjoy this chapter!


End file.
